


Christmas Eve Eve

by herbailiwick



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Christmas, Established Relationship, Hot Chocolate, M/M, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-04
Updated: 2012-12-04
Packaged: 2017-11-20 06:47:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/582466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herbailiwick/pseuds/herbailiwick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><a href="http://johncroftianlullaby.tumblr.com/post/36791962147/winter-drawing-writing-challenge">Winter Writing/Drawing Challenge</a> Day 03 - Hot Chocolate/Hot Drinks</p><p>Arthur is nervous about the Christmas Eve party.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas Eve Eve

"This isn't very good at all," I said, staring into my cup of coffee. "Arthur, you weren't, by any chance, preoccupied? Too much Christmas on the brain?"

Arthur frowned and took a sip from his own mug, spitting it right back out into the cup with a grimace that would have been rather comical if the coffee hadn't been so bad. "Oh," he said vaguely. "I think I know what happened." I raised a brow. "I'll just be a minute. Let me try again."

I sighed and nodded, offering him the mug with the little carolers on it. "Might as well just get out two fresh mugs," I said. "And, no, please don't tell me what happened. I'd rather not know."

"I'm sorry, Douglas," he said, running a hand through his hair. "I do have a case of Christmas brain."

"I forgive you," I assured him. "But don't worry too much about the party, alright?" Our first Christmas party since we'd started living together was going to take place whether he was ready or not. "Sure, you're hosting it, but who's your little helper?"

"You," he said, like it was a question.

"Yes, me. And, between the two of us, there shouldn't be any real disasters, should there?"

"No," he said carefully, then slowly smiled at the thought. "There shouldn't be. Here, I'll get new mugs for us. I'll just heat up some of the cider. And I'll really concentrate."

"Third time's the charm," I called as he left for the kitchen with the mugs.

"But, Douglas," he said, pausing, turning round again. "This is the second time. Second time's the charm."

"I know what I said," I said.

His face fell a bit. "Oh."

"We finished the cider already," I pointed out.

"Oh," he said again.

"But what about cocoa?"

"OH! Do you mean it, Douglas? Really?!"

"Why not? It is, after all," I reminded him, since he'd only told me a _dozen_ times already, "Christmas Eve Eve."

"Yes, it is! And tomorrow'll go really well. Relatively."

"Arthur," I assured, "your amount of Christmas cheer is unmatched. You're going to be the life of the party, and a wonderful host. Just don't worry, and try to focus, and if you screw up, well, that's what you keep _me_ around for."

"Do I?" he said thoughtfully, biting his lip in a moment of insecurity. "Keep you around, I mean?"

"More adeptly than you could ever imagine," I said honestly. And it earned me a little smile, and, eventually, a cup of rather good cocoa.


End file.
